Welcome to The Soundtrack, a column where we plumb the depths of our musical knowledge to bring you the best* (subjective) music to listen to for very specific life situations. This week we step up our game and actually MADE YOU A SPOTIFY PLAYLIST.
Most of us have been on a prolonged train ride at some stage in our lives. You know the kind I mean. Not like, a 45-minute commute to work that you’ve done a million times and feels both familiar and screamingly uncomfortable. Like a 1.5 hour journey on a train that looks – or at least feels – a little different to the line you usually catch. On a golden afternoon. Or a very early morning. If you’re from Brisbane like me, the first thing that might spring to mind is all those high-school-days trips to the Gold Coast on the Varsity Lakes line. Unclear on what the interstate versions of this is, but I’m sure there’s something. Regardless, there’s also interstate train travel to consider – they’re even talking about putting a bloody bullet train from Melbourne to Sydney now. And friends, you’re going to need something to pass the time, so here ya go. It should be noted that at 5 songs long, this is just a launchpad, but gimme a break. I’m not made of time.
The Avalanches – Subways
Does this one count as cheating? Probably. Who cares. Fight me. In true Avalanches style, they really nailed the total chaos that catching a train/subway can be. But lucky for you, this is a chill train ride, so you get to just relax and revel in the swirling samples, catching snippets of spoken words and weird frog-like reverb. I think this is the newest song I’ve ever put on The Soundtrack. That alone should be a testament to how perfectly this fits. The main vocal sample for this song comes from a VERY strange (but kind of fucking cool) “no-wave” track of the same name from 1980, sung by a 12 year old girl. That’s both a fun fact and a very valid reason to regress into your childhood and daydream the journey away as the trees whip past you.
Wet – Dreams
There’s something about a lengthy train ride that sort of makes you feel like you’re going full bohemian misfit and skipping town for good, right? Even if you really are just going to Aunt Rachel’s place down the coast for the weekend. But who said you have to live in reality? This emotionally ambitious, sonically abrupt little number will allow you to get lost in that fantasy. You’ve likely already put on that “I’m in public but I’m alone” persona we all have, but Kelly Zutrau is breathlessly asking you to bring all your dreams to her. How could you refuse? Besides, falling into a reverie in public is the tits.
The Mountain Goats – Love Love Love
Alright, there’s probably only so much aimless zoning out you can do before you feel like a bit of a wanker. Or maybe not – hey, you do you, guy. For everyone else, there’s The Mountain Goats (tMG). I’ve heard people brush them off as navel-gazing sadboy music before but I have to disagree. This song, in particular, feels like one of the most worldly, considered, and cosmic musical summations of love I’ve ever come across. And, to that end, it is an excellent way to give your train trance some direction. What other topic is so universal that it could potentially shack up in your head so firmly it keeps you deep in thought for an entire extended train ride? It’s time to think about love, and I mean really think. Your childhood sweethearts, your first real heartbreak, your current squeeze, sure. But also the people on the carriage. They all love someone. Is love the opposite of evil or are they ever strange bedfellows? Get really sappy and really weird. Nobody’s listening except tMG.
Harry Nilsson – Everybody’s Talkin’
Another truly gorgeous folksy offering. I have absolutely no clue why, but this song to me has always epitomised train travel. I just double checked and the lyrics say absolutely nothing about trains. The closest allusion to travel at all is “I’m going where the sun keeps shining/Through the pouring rain/Going where the weather suits my clothes”. But somehow… it’s just perfect. Those wistful, subdued strings. Nilsson’s extraordinarily weird but oddly charming vocal timbre. The peaceful but anticipatory finger-picking. It all comes together to say that stuff is happening, and it’s probably nice stuff… but the important thing is that it’s happening at all, because that’s what life is.
Dirty Three – I Really Should’ve Gone Out Last Night
This is, by far, the most melancholy of the lot. Here’s the part you’ve been waiting for all along: the perfect song to stare pensively out the scratched-up train window to, pretending you’re in a hopelessly sad movie. Dirty Three don’t need any words to communicate aching regret, fatalism, and heartsickness. There’s both everything and nothing going on all at once here, and you get to decide which instrument you’re going to follow most closely as you speed towards your destination, thinking about all the things you (in the movie) should’ve done that you didn’t. Make sure you don’t think about your real life regrets though, cos it’ll be super weird if you’re crying actual tears when you de-train and Aunt Rachel’s waiting there to pick you up at the station.
Image: Nstanosheck Blogspot
Brisbane’s Good Boy must be genuinely exhausted. After a massive year, and off the back of an absolutely packed BIGSOUND showcase (I literally had to stand on a chair to catch a glimpse of them), they’ve just released their second EP, Plum. And, kinda like its namesake fruit, it’s juicy in its incisive intelligence and sweet in its charming, irrepressible vocal hooks.
First out of the gate, the five-track EP kicks things off with a little bit of early Bloc Party-esque nostalgia in Sycophant. The track is tense and driving, with incredibly tight percussion and chiming guitars – but it never feels crowded. There’s something incredibly satisfying about the tried-and-true “call out” song. You know the type: The Offspring‘s Why Don’t You Get A Job, Lily Allen’s It’s Not Fair, The Angels‘ Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again, et al. Not to say there’s necessarily any musical resemblance, but how damn good does it feel to let somebody else articulate all the frustration that’s been boiling under your skin and messing with your blood pressure for months? You don’t need to bitch about that one girl/guy who’s got you down, just let frontman Rian King do the verbal sparring for you. The best part? No ugly fallout, just a self-satisfied smile on your face.
Although previously insisting they’re “not a political band”, next track and latest single SOGK feels pretty damn outspoken. That’s a compliment, by the way. King’s lyrics articulate a tolerance of freedom of religion, but rejects it as a framework for his own life (I don’t need to have faith/Cos I cut out the middle man/I have faith in myself). In today’s climate of unbridled hate speech and intolerance, this feels like a mighty timely balm – a gentle reminder that it genuinely doesn’t matter if someone else has a different invisible sky friend to you (or if they don’t have one). Also, this song features the best example of King’s casual falsetto since Transparency.
Okay, real talk: Ya Mum’s Ya Dad might be the best song name to ever exist. Try arguing with me – you can’t. It’s just a fact. Seriously though, this is incredibly insightful and succinct summary of what a quarter/mid-life crisis feels like. Social expectations surrounding home ownership, career paths, and marriage can really feel incredibly crushing sometimes (It’s getting harder each week). I’m getting some pretty serious Boys Don’t Cry (The Cure, not Frank) vibes here too – homage though, not a carbon copy.
Love songs are tough to nail because there are just. so. damn. many of them. Weaving in regret, ennui, youthful idiocy in the lyrics – letting instrumentation take a back seat – it’s a tricky balancing act. As an avid connoseuir of the “shoulda coulda woulda” sadboy love song, I don’t say this lightly: Millie might be the best I’ve heard all year. The line Some bright ideas never stray far affected me just as deeply as The Whitlams‘ I’ll always keep the light on for you did when I heard it for the first time. The entire Plum EP shows incredible promise, but to me, this is the standout. I have absolutely nothing at all to be sad about and this song made me sad. That’s no easy feat.
Closing track Poverty Line needs absolutely no introduction. If you don’t sing this when you’re sinking tinnies with your housemates you’re a goddamn liar. This is probably the youth anthem of the year, which is a huge credit to Good Boy, and unspeakably depressing to everyone else.
Welcome to The Soundtrack, a column where we plumb the depths of our musical knowledge to bring you the best* (subjective) music to listen to for very specific life situations. Initially, this feature was designed to discuss and dissect particular albums that we think fit the bill for various sitches. But it soon became clear that adhering to such strict guidelines could never work. Multiple genres, styles, vibes fit the bill for any given scenario, you know? Hardcore house and pub rock could easily both populate a playlist designed for the same thing. So we decided to be a little more flexible, and curate playlists instead – unpacking them song by song.
Chances are that you’ve dealt with a job/internship interview or three in your life. They’re always nerve-wracking, no matter how prepared you are. But they’re unavoidable, and in order to nail it, you really, really need to bring you A+ game. It’s not always easy to motivate yourself to get up and show someone your best side, while convincing them to invest money and time into you, but we’ve picked a few songs to help you get there.
Kendrick Lamar – i
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8aShfolR6w8]
As the old saying goes, we accept the love we think we deserve. And if you don’t accept your own love, why would a couple of random people who thought your resume was okay enough to call you in for an interview? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying to walk in there too cocky (very bad idea), but confidence is definitely key here. Start primping for the interview while you get down to this. Chuck on your best threads (use your judgement – giant artsy earrings are perfect for a creative job, but not so much for food service or a more conservative profession), brush your hair, use that hairbrush as a microphone while you put on a little pre-show for the mirror before the Main Event. Say it with me now: I love myself!
Wrongkong – Dear Euphoria
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VL75MNhRIJM]
This is the one you wanna chuck on immediately as you leave your house. Hear that quirky blend of acoustic guitar and warping synths? Oh yeah. This song is infectious as hell and I’m relatively certain that if it doesn’t put a whopper of a grin on your face you may be dead inside. Like all good pump-up pop songs, it has an irrepressibly charming shout-along chorus that you’re not gonna be able to shake for the rest of the day week month. I can’t remember how this song made it into my library but it’s turned many a boring commute into a private dance party. That’s exactly the kick-off point you need to get these suckers to beg you to work for them.
Flight of the Conchords – Business Time
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AqZcYPEszN8]
As funny as this song is, this selection is no joke. It’s all well and good to walk in feeling self-confident, well-groomed and like you’re such hot shit you might as well be interviewing them, but it’s important to retain a sense of humility and – more importantly – humour. That’s not to say you should be cracking jokes in your interview from start to finish, necessarily, but you’re not just there to rattle off a laundry list of job requirements: great team worker, highly organised and punctual, fast learner. You’re there to showcase your personality, too – to hammer it home that you, specifically, fit into this workplace’s culture better than anyone else. How can you possibly do that if you come across as a tightly-wound egotistical bundle of nerves? You need to shake out any remaining traces of stress, and this much-beloved NZ comedy duo are the ones to help you do just that.
Eminem – Lose Yourself
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xFYQQPAOz7Y]
This one is a no-brainer. That tension-building riff is so perfect for the those final ten minutes you have to get through in the waiting room before you’re called it (because you rocked up early like a good interviewee). The lyrics – well, at the start, anyway – are such a pitch-perfect reflection of how you’re likely feeling at this point that it’s almost on the nose. The remainder of the verses can serve as a cautionary tale of what not to do, while you focus on Losing Yourself in the moment, you want it, you better never let it go. One of the ultimate pump-up songs before any big event, if this doesn’t rile you up, I don’t know what will.
Just don’t eat any spaghetti before the interview.
Flume – On Top ft. T-Shirt
[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-QVmsqetB8]
I speak completely from personal experience when I say that listening to this song right before you walk in the doors will guarantee you the job/internship. I have made three interviews my bitch after smashing out this bad boy. It, like the previous entry on this list, has sorta-cheesy lyrics (I advance every minute, boy I live it/Why start shit you don’t finish), but that’s all part of its charm. It will inject you with so much bravado that you will feel like you are literally Flume and the entire world is at your feet. Those atmospheric synths will pump the blood in your ears around like a dishwasher. Adrenaline is your friend. They say to dress for the job you want, not the job you have – well, this is listening to the music for the job you damn well know you deserve someday. And that closing line? Damn.
Read more: The Soundtrack: Music For When You’re Hungover But You’ve Got A Family Thing
Image: PluggedIn.com
triple j is one of the biggest cultural phenomena Australia has. Know what’s still more important? The inclusion and respectful treatment of First Nation’s people.
I adore and respect triple j and the people who work there. At the same time, I don’t feel uncomfortable in gently saying: guys, it’s time to change the date of the Hottest 100. Not in 2018 or 2019 or 2020. It’s time now.
Let’s back up for a second and recount the situation. You’re reading this article, so you more than likely know that the discussion surrounding #ChangeTheDate continues to swirl, as it should, about moving our national day of celebration away from January 26, which has a horrific and bloody history. You probably also know that yesterday morning, it became apparent that some serious internal discussion was happening at triple j as to whether they should, for their role in this larger issue, move the date of their world-famous Hottest 100 countdown. That same afternoon, came a response in the form of a resounding “hmmm, nah”. The bulk of triple j’s statement can be read below:
Q: Are we changing the date of triple j’s Hottest 100?
Short answer: For now… No. In 2017, the Hottest 100 will be on January 26.
triple j’s Hottest 100 is a countdown of your favourite songs of the past year on a public holiday in January. It’s intended as a celebration of the year’s best music that everybody can enjoy.
We’ve been aware of, and have been a part of, the discussions around 26 January for some time. triple j is heavily involved in the growing dialogue around Indigenous recognition and perspectives on 26 January. This is really important to us.
We will continue to talk to Indigenous communities, artists and our audience about the date for the Hottest 100 in future years. In short: it’s under review.
We want the Hottest 100 to be an inclusive and respectful event for all Australians, including all the incredible Indigenous artists making great Australian music, and the listeners from all cultural backgrounds who love it.
As part of this commitment, we’re proud to announce that we’re once again teaming up with the Australian Indigenous Mentoring Experience (AIME)for the 2016 Hottest 100.
Every year, millions of Australians get involved in the Hottest 100 at home and overseas. By working with AIME, we want to use this wide-reaching platform to create a meaningful connection between all communities, including Indigenous Australians.
In 2015, triple j’s listeners raised over $100,000 for AIME, a mentoring program supporting Indigenous kids through high school and into university, training and employment with a completion rate the same as the average Australian child – aiming to close the gap in educational outcomes.
Lots to unpack there. For starters, AIME is an incredible organisation that is more than deserving of support and it’s fantastic that triple j are continuing to provide that. It’s also great that, broadly, triple j are vocally committed to making their Hottest 100 “an inclusive and respectful event for all Australians”. For some, though, this lip service (and the AIME partnering) is simply not enough. Clashing with triple j content director Ollie Ward yesterday on Hack, Black Comedy actor and writer Nakkiah Lui argued that the decision not to move the Hottest 100 is inherently exclusionary and political.
For his part, Ward rebutted that moving the date would also be political, but also made the kind of bizarre claim that the Hottest 100 is nothing more than a countdown of “the biggest bangers of the year”, and that it was “weird” that it was being intrinsically linked to Australia Day in the national consciousness. It’s true that the Hottest 100 is a music countdown, but how likely is it that the decision to hold it on Australia Day was an accident? Lui labelled this response a “cop out”. I’m inclined to agree.
When it boils down to it, the exchange between Lui and Ward constituted of an Indigenous woman telling someone who has at least some kind of hand in the process of changing the date that he should do it now, and him telling her she’s wrong. Does that make anyone else uncomfortable? It should. Hack host Tom Tilley even straight-up asked Ward if the continued partnership with AIME was about “absolving” the perceived responsibility to move the date of the Hottest 1oo (of course the answer was no). More important than anyone else’s opinions on this issue (including mine) are the opinions of First Nation’s people. If they are, by and large, saying “change the date”, what is left to discuss?
Logistically, the Hottest 100 really needs to be on a day when most people aren’t at work, so that as many people as possible can enjoy it. This could be a weekend (which excludes anyone with a weekend job) or simply another public holiday like Boxing Day or even New Year’s Day. Personally I think the Hottest 100 is huge enough, and important enough to the cultural fabric of Australia, that it may even warrant its very own holiday, or at least an organised Hottest 100 party. Sure, there would need to be some shuffling and re-scheduling on triple j’s part to move the Hottest 100, but what would the REAL difficulty be for the average listener? Pilerats said it best:
https://www.facebook.com/pilerats/posts/1151485681592162?match=aG90dGVzdCAxMDAsdHJpcGxlIGo%3D
Hey guys. Put up your hands if you genuinely, seriously, care about continuing to celebrate Australia Day on January 26. Even if you have never been to an Invasion Day rally, chances are you are well aware of that particular date’s history, and feel at least slightly uncomfortable about that.
Now let’s try this: put your hands up who genuinely, seriously cares about celebrating the Hottest 100 in general? Yep, that’s a lot more. This is sheerly anecdotal, but for the most part, when young people come together to sink tinnies and play backyard cricket on January 26, the highlight of the day – the most important, pivotal part – is the Hottest 100. When’s the last time you went to an Australia Day shindig that wasn’t playing the countdown? Music is important and we all love it – same with triple j. If, as Ward claims, the fact that the countdown is on Jan 26 by sheer coincidence, and it’s not inherently linked to Australia Day, what would the big deal in moving it be? I don’t want to lambast Ward or triple j – they’re doing their best, I truly believe that. Perhaps the wheels are in motion to change the date in 2018, and they’re just nutting it all out before announcing.
Enough speaking in generalisations, though. Here’s a true, real example of how having the Hottest 100 on January 26 affected someone this year. Perhaps, if you’re still on the fence, it will help give the #ChangeTheDate argument some clout for you.
My partner is Aboriginal, he’s also a musician (and by extension, of course, a music lover). This year, a friend of ours held his birthday party on January 26. The idea was that it was going to be extremely low-key on the Australia Day stuff, and that the day would primarily be about celebrating his birthday as well as the Hottest 100 countdown. We were keen. What a good way to subvert the day, we thought. Then, the morning of, reality hit. It became clear that my partner did not want to celebrate anything on this day. It goes without saying – this is completely understandable. I stood (and still stand) behind this decision firmly. He hadn’t even really known it (consciously) himself until the time came, I think.
Everyone was very understanding. We stayed home and caught snippets of the countdown, but the day was coloured by its ugly history. For my part, my white privilege had previously allowed me to enjoy parties on January 26 regardless of its history. I am grateful that this is no longer the case, and ashamed it took this long for my attitude to change. If the Hottest 100 date changed, this sort of situation (I am sure many others have similar experiences) would never have to happen again.
There’s been much talk of how we should be able to reconcile the horrors of the past and also celebrate what’s great about music/Australia at the same time. To an extent, I agree. To erase January 26 from our national calendar entirely (even if Australia Day itself moved) would also be a mistake. It should be a day of national mourning, recognition, support. It should be solely about our Indigenous people. We can (and should) still have a day in our calendar to celebrate what we love about music, and about being here – although they don’t need to be on the same day. But holding the Hottest 100 countdown on January 26 is wildly inappropriate. Would a countdown of the year’s #bangers in the USA on 9/11 be received well?
Back to the topic on hand, it’s encouraging to see that triple j have been deliberate about saying the date won’t move “for now”. That implies future progress – hopefully for 2018 if not sooner. It’s a shame the wheels aren’t turning quite fast enough for 2017 to be the first step, but it seems this is our lot for now. Here are some things triple j could do to make the Hottest 100, as it stands on January 26, as inclusive as possible:
Before anyone jumps to the “that was hundreds of years ago, I had nothing to do with it” argument, let me stop you right there. Nobody is saying that the horrific history that this country was built on is your fault. Nobody is saying you even need to feel guilty – but you should feel empathy. This is about inclusivity and respect. If the Hottest 100 was not on Australia Day, you’d just attend an extra party every year. And Indigenous people would be free to celebrate the countdown without any of those ugly connotations.
Seems like a win-win situation to me. How could that possibly be a bad thing?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tZ9qeX4gUeo
Image: The Herald
You don’t know the real James Vincent McMorrow. But on his third LP We Move, he starts pulling back the curtain. Joined by a who’s-who of modern production – Nineteen85 (Drake, DVSN), Two Inch Punch (Sam Smith, Years & Years), and Frank Dukes (Kanye West, Rihanna) – McMorrow has crafted a release that juxtaposes disarming honesty about mental health with irresistibly sensational hooks. James Vincent McMorrow is bent on changing the perceptions people may have formed about him following his earlier releases, saying he wants to correct “people listening to my songs and believing that I’m out in the forest all day long, thinking about trees. Because I’m actually at home, trying to convince myself to go out and get milk.”
Image: JamesVMcMorrow.com
The funk-influenced Rising Water immediately signals that this album is going to be a far cry from 2014’s Post Tropical. The Nineteen85-produced track is decorated by a cheeky little digital synth that sounds like it came straight out of the 80s. McMorrow’s unmistakeable, lofty vocals are as fragile as ever, but traverse the track’s space with a newfound urgency.
I Lie Awake Every Night sounds, to put it crassly, like a 90s RnB ballad made new – and it works so damn well. On its surface it reads like a love song, but McMorrow wears his anxiety on his sleeve, being brutally honest about the way his internal struggles (notably his past battles with an eating disorder) informs his maturation: “I stare right into the dark/Thinking of ways to remind myself/That it’s all a current up here/I saw a current of fear inside”.
Cards on the table: I had to stop writing notes for basically the entirety of the next song because of the irresistible groove of Last Story. It’s deceptively simple, driven by live instrumentation and a syncopated drum beat, but when those harmonies hit it’s basically impossible to not close your eyes and just feel. There’s a sense of an inevitable crashing and burning, but Last Story retains a naive determination despite the hinting that fame might be running McMorrow ragged: “Agree we liked it better before/I started singing”.
The beguiling way the vocals on One Thousand Times are manipulated – layered, delayed, drowned in reverb – makes for a truly gripping moment on the album. Glimmering and hooky, One Thousand Times houses what is one of the best choruses of this release. It’s prime sing-along material, too: globally recognisable rueful admissions of lingering feelings cloaked in acknowledgement of the impossible reality.
Self-loathing is a tricky emotion to get right in the context of art. It can come across as navel-gazing at best, outright wankery at worst. James Vincent McMorrow nails it on Evil. Sonically, it’s the most chaotic track on We Move; an onomatopoeic soundscape for the deafening internal din that is part and parcel of struggling with identity and worth. The burning private tussle is detailed so bitingly – “This used to work for me/Now I can barely even stand/How I feel about myself” – it’s wholly uncomfortable to listen to. But it should be.
Conversely, Get Low takes the discomfort one step too far. It’s a bitter screed about hating a former partner’s newfound happiness, the lyrical cousin of Hotline Bling. The extraordinarily cheesy electric guitar motifs don’t help, either. This brief denouement into distasteful territory isn’t enough to ruin the album, though.
“Then I call you up/Convince you it’s someone else/Somebody sure/That I’m still in love/But I’m not sleeping at night/I’m afraid I could die/Without leaving a mark”. Perhaps McMorrow knows Get Low is a tad obnoxious, because Killer Whales is its quasi-apology, cloaked in self-awareness at his emotional gaffes. He’s not exactly contrite, but he’s acknowledging his foibles, wrestling with the questions of how to overcome them but coming up empty-handed.
While much of We Move seeks to address issues of mental health in the context of a failed, circular relationship, Seek Another is a true descent into the abstract absurdity that, for some, is a cerebral reality. Driven by a tense, sinister piano that eventually releases into mania via an ingenious use of a flanger, this song may not make much sense to you if you’ve never felt the whirling descent into cognitive dissonance. Either way, it’s still a wild ride.
In Surreal, McMorrow is reaching out a hand, desperate for help – or at least understanding (“Are you hopeless/Like me”). Thanks to the blissful, wide-sounding instrumentation, though, there’s a definite flicker of promise here despite that sentiment.
Closing track Lost Angles is the only song on this album that would’ve felt just as at home on Post Tropical. It’s incredibly sparse in comparison to the other nine offerings, but manages to hold your attention with a slow-burning build and the fact that McMorrow’s voice is much louder, much more clear in the mix than it previously has been. Each bluntly-put repeated assertion – from “Who am I to own you?” to “Don’t let fear control you” cuts deep, shaking the listener out of their emotional reverie. Although not as interesting as some of We Move‘s other tracks on first listen, it’s just as affecting – and manages to tie up the existential loose ends we’ve been presented with.
Image: JamesVMcMorrow.com
Read more: James Vincent McMorrow on wasting moments
Welcome to The Soundtrack, a new column where we plumb the depths of our musical knowledge to bring you the best* (subjective) album to listen to for very specific life situations. First up, Tom Misch‘s Beat Tape 2.
I don’t think I’m the only person who’s ever woken up with a throbbing hangover and realised: Oh shit, I have things to do today. Family things. Maybe it’s your nan’s birthday. Maybe it’s your sister’s graduation. Or maybe it was this Sunday just gone, you cracked a few too many tinnies armed with an ill-advised “she’ll be right” attitude, and woke up feeling like the true definition of seedy with T-minus 2 hours to go before Father’s Day lunch at your parent’s place. This is a very specific situation that calls for a very specific kind of music to assist you. It’s not like needing something to get you going for work, or motivate you through assignment. You’re feeling fragile and sorry for yourself. You need a gentle push, not a screeching shove. You want to stay soft and pliable, but be able to keep yourself from collapsing into mum’s potato salad at the table. That’s where Tom Misch comes in.
Source: Tom Misch
Beat Tape 2 is gentle but still titillating enough to get you moving, like a soft, well-placed kiss on the cheek. It’s comforting but funky, enveloping the listener in a pleasant reverie and then drawing them out in a satisfied daze.
Opening track The Journey is purely instrumental. This is perfect for a hungover person because everything might feel like screaming to them. Understated strings, lightly warping synths, and a very damn smooth guitar indeed all seem to wordlessly just get how cactus you’re feeling. Listen to this one while you’re still in bed – just make sure you don’t fall back asleep.
Now it’s time to put your feet on the floor, but don’t move too fast or you’ll give yourself headspins. Wander With Me has got your back. With Carmody‘s delicate, unaffected vocals spouting sentiments like “Baby it’s alright with me”, this song feels comfortingly sympathetic, one step up from the previous track’s acknowledgement of your plight. Wander With Me knows you knew by 10pm last night you’d gotten yourself in WAY too deep, but you kept going. It doesn’t care, it loves you anyway. Isn’t that nice?
Let’s turn the tempo up a little with Nightgowns. Make yourself a coffee and let yourself give in to the inevitable hip-swaying a bit. Don’t be afraid, this song is still sparse, still just as sheltering – but this is where we start prepping for a day of Being A Functional Human instead of just wallowing. Dunno about you, but I’ll enlist Loyle Carner and his undemanding rap flow any day to ease me out of my blanket fort.
Okay, we’re feeling kinda better, we’re sipping away at a scalding coffee (with sugar because you deserve it today) and munching a bit of butter and Vegemite-laden toast. You’re ready for some unabashedly positive vibes, courtesy of what sounds like clavinet, the chirpiest of all keyboards. Hear that twang? Everything’s gonna be okay! The sun is shining and you actually don’t hate it. Plus, this song is called Falafel, which is great. But also might make you realise how hungry you are. Surely your family will feed you! Hey, maybe it won’t be that bad after all.
If you weren’t already convinced that this album is THE perfect thing to chuck on in this particular sitch, the next song is literally called Wake Up This Day, so there. It also features Brisbane-born Jordan Rakei and his pipes of liquid gold. There’s something about the way his voice and the guitar- and synth-work all play off each other that feels like a ebbing, flowing river. Speaking of which, that coffee went straight through you, didn’t it?
Since you’re in the bathroom already now, grab a towel and get yourself under a nice warm shower. In The Midst Of It All is twinkling, lush, and just a little sexy – perfect fodder for gettin’ clean. Come Back is just the sprightly kind of vibe you need to push you along as you pick family-appropriate clothes, make your damn bed for once, and throw out the half-eaten Maccas on your floor. Yeah! Responsibility!
But hold up – what’s this? Your Love feels a whole hell of a lot like a (very subdued) club track. Kinda like something you’d hear at your trendy local’s Sunday sesh. Hey, wait a minute. It is Sunday. And it’s the afternoon (or close to it). And you have ingredients for Bloody Marys. Perhaps a carefully measured, spicy hair of the dog will perk you up a tad? (PSA: don’t do this if you have to drive and you’re not on your opens).
Yepppppp. That feels better, right? Just sit back and gather your thoughts – don’t get up to leave just yet, you still have time. Hark‘s crisp hi-hats are simplistic enough to not distract you while you nut out some more interesting responses to the inevitable “what have you been up to?” brigade than just “ah, you know, not much”.
Alright, time to get your butt into gear. The Bearcubs-featuring Colours of Freedom is the most energetic and diverse track yet, with lots of tasty little sonic moments. Start your car (or get a train, or whatever). Life is happening and hey, this isn’t that difficult, is it?
Beautiful Escape was designed to keep your private little audio-induced high pumping. Zak Abel is singing lyrics so euphoric you’re basically guaranteed to forget your plight. Do you like super bright, skittering guitars? How fortuitous!
Just as you roll up to your parent’s place, you grab your phone to check out what this infectious, almost anthemic final track is called. It somehow walks this very thin line between shimmering exuberance and restraint. You knock on the front door as you open Spotify (or whatever you use) and grin wryly to yourself. It’s called Home.
Image: YouTube
Another week, another article about violence and music – how depressing is that sentence? I even mentioned Chris Brown in my unpacking of domestically violent musicians just last week. Did I somehow cause today’s ruckus? (No.)
ICYMI, Chris Brown has just been arrested for assault with a deadly weapon. The arrest comes after Brown emerged from his home, ending an 11-hour standoff with police, who were called to the scene by a woman claiming Brown was threatening her and another woman with a gun. While it’s not exactly clear what the whole story is, there are a lot of very weird details. For instance, Miss California Regional 2016 Baylee Curran has said she was the woman who called police. Ray J was there getting a tattoo when the two women showed up, apparently uninvited (but Curran says they were there for a music video audition). They were told to leave and Brown allegedly threatened them with a gun. He also threw a big bag of weapons and drugs out the window at one point and shouted “come and get me”. Eventually, he exited the house with his lawyer. Police have said that everyone who exited the home has been “cooperating” with them.
During all this, Brown took to Instagram to proclaim his innocence in a series of videos. “I ain’t did shit. I ain’t going to do shit. And it’s always going to be be fuck the police black lives matter n—er,” he said. “I don’t care y’all going to stay playing with me like I’m the villain out here, like I’m going crazy. You guys got me fucked up though because good luck when you get the warrant or whatever you need to do. You’re going to walk right up in here and you’re going to see nothing you idiots. I’m tired of fucking dealing with you all, y’all the worst gang in the world, the police, and I said it.”
….and that’s where we have a problem.
For the record, I do not like Chris Brown. Domestic violence is extremely serious, and not only is the Rihanna incident abhorrent, but his subsequent lack of tangible contrition has repeatedly proven disgusting and unforgivable.
Does race play a part in why this incident today is getting QUITE so much attention, and why Brown has been so openly and publicly vilified for his past actions? While Brown’s absolutely deserve the reaction they got, aren’t there others who also deserve the same condemnation?
You likely already know about Johnny Depp and Charlie Sheen, but what about Michael Fassbender, Nicolas Cage, Gary Oldman, Sean Bean, or Bill Murray? All of them have had domestic violence allegations brought against them during the age of the internet and social media. To say none of them have faced the same backlash as Brown is an understatement – many of them continue to be regarded as talented actors and even loveable, meme-able personalities.
So what’s at play here? Obviously there are a lot of factors. None of those guys have had a confronting picture of the person they abused made public. That’s important in the scheme of why we continue to react so strongly against Brown, without batting an eyelid when it comes to so many other perpetrators. The photo of Rihanna’s beaten face was disturbing and upsetting beyond words. An image like that stays with you; it’s not easy to forget. Additionally, most of the charges brought against the men listed above have been legally dropped – but keep in mind that “dropped” does not necessarily mean “unsubstantiated”. It’s also a chicken-or-egg sort of situation: NONE of those accusations had the coverage Brown’s actions did, even before that photo of Rihanna surfaced. Perhaps people were less willing to believe them. They weren’t widely reported on, there was little to no public outrage, and as much as nobody likes to admit it, that plays a major role in these cases and in the way we perceive these people in future.
Image: Billboard
Racism is alive and well and it just so happens that the only celebrity who has been permanently lambasted for an abhorrent deed that is sadly quite common is black, how can we ignore that? Again, this article is in no way defending Brown or playing down his actions – Howl & Echoes has spent a great deal of time explaining precisely why we think he’s a terrible person. You can still hate Chris Brown. I do. His citing BLM in these videos is ridiculous, but that’s not the main issue at play here. We need to be outraged, we need to be supportive of safe spaces for women, and we need to apply this across the board instead of only targeting someone who makes a convenient scapegoat. If you’re still not convinced, ponder these:
Would The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou still be your favourite movie if Bill Murray’s character was played by Chris Brown? Would you share and laugh at Nicolas Cage memes if he was Chris Brown? Would you wax lyrical about how Michael Fassbender is ~so dreamy~ if he was Chris Brown?
If you need to talk to someone after reading this article, or you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, please call 1800 RESPECT or contact Reach Out Australia.
Image: FullHD Pictures
Domestic violence is probably as old as music itself, so it’s no surprise there’s a litany of songs written about it, because of it, in protest of it – you get the idea. Beyond that, many musicians themselves are guilty of the heinous act. The way we treat those people within the industry is loaded, the way we consume (or don’t consume) their music as fans inherently fraught. What happens when your fave turns out to be problematic?
In recent days, one such incident resurfaced. Sydney band The Rumjacks announced a mammoth 35-date tour and frontman Frankie McLaughlin‘s 2012 conviction (and subsequent sentence) came back into public attention. Those who remembered the press coverage of McLaughlin’s conviction (it was very public) voiced their completely valid concerns about what kind of message this tour was sending re: the music industry as a safe and welcoming space. Suddenly, many of the venues didn’t want The Rumjacks playing on their stages anymore.
The public reaction to this has been, er, mixed at best. Responses ranging from relieved to annoyed pepper the web, with the predictable “he’s done his time, when do we stop maligning him for this?” line popping up particularly often. If, like me, your initial reaction to this kind of opinion is to roll your eyes, it can be difficult to see why that’s worth unpacking – but it is. McLaughlin served a “sixteen month custodial sentence” for three incidents of assault against his partner of the time. For the sake of anyone reading who might find it harrowing or upsetting, I’ll spare the details, but the court transcript can be found here. The Rumjacks, at the time, condemned McLaughlin’s actions in a Facebook post, and went on hiatus.
When the band fully reformed after his release, nothing more was said about the conviction beyond an interview with White Ribbon at BIGSOUND 2015 as part of their now seemingly defunct #notON campaign. The Rumjacks’ participation in the conference in the first place was a point of contention. QMusic eventually approved after lengthy discussions to this end. Now, in light of the media coverage, The Rumjacks have released another statement via their Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/TheRumjacks/posts/10154348011235450
It’s difficult to find evidence of the band or McLaughlin’s alleged extensive commitment to “the principles of #notON” beyond last year’s interview and this statement. That’s important. Sure, there’s been no lying or even necessarily hiding from his conviction, but it sure as hell hasn’t been a self-started point of discussion across the band’s career since it happened. As a public figure in the aftermath of a domestic violence conviction (“the aftermath” means forever, by the way – victims don’t get to just wake up one day and forget about these incidents), McLaughlin has been in a unique position to give voices to the voiceless. To promote open and honest discussions about domestic violence, rehabilitation, the justice system, all of it. To fundraise, even. It’s nice he met with a charity once. His statement above is a good one. But for some it may appear to be too little, too late.
It’s relatively impossible to talk about this issue without touching on Chris Brown, so let’s keep it brief. Brown’s assault of Rihanna resulted in him being barred from entering Australia. The enormity of his public status kept his actions in the news for years. It’s still being talked about – it will likely follow him for the rest of his career. A key reason for this? His reaction, and the nature of his music. His lyrics are often misogynistic at best, downright violent at worst. His response to the far-reaching consequences of his actions were tone deaf at best, and showed no contrition at worst.
Pictured: A dickhead
Obviously The Rumjacks’ reaction hasn’t been anywhere near as inappropriate as Brown’s (because there hasn’t really been one until now). So let’s take a look at their music. The Rumjacks are a Celt-punk band, so obviously there’s a particular language/ethos that usually goes hand in hand with that. The upshot is not pretty.
To where & whom i asked to know
She smiled, a cruelly mocking blow
She’ll never smile that way again
I ruined her for other men
And sent her to her wintry end with a..– Murder Shanty, The Rumjacks
To be fair, on The Rumjacks’ website, there’s a statement above the lyrics to that particular song that reads “Relax, geez.. its only a tale of the passing of the seasons & the cycle of life, if Nick Cave had written it youd be jerking off by now. [sic]” But it’s not really a lone example. Many songs refer to women as being whores, easy, dirty, or otherwise objectionable. Violence and alcohol abuse (which McLaughlin purports to have previously struggled with) are also recurring themes. I’m not a psychologist or a doctor, but I wonder how healthy or otherwise it might be for someone who’s had those issues to be making a living off the glamourising of them? To see crowds of people screaming these sentiments back at him?
In comparison to Chris Brown, The Rumjacks’ level of stature is low. They definitely have a solid fanbase, but they’re not in the public eye as much as him – not even close. Perhaps this is how the conviction, so publicly reported on at the time, managed to be mostly buried if not forgotten altogether.
So what does this mean for companies, entities, and fans that choose to stick by The Rumjacks, or indeed any artist with a history like this? Are they tacitly supporting violence? Funding it, even? Are fans of their music giving the old “separate the artist from the art” ideology a burl? As mentioned at the start of this article, The Rumjacks are not the only band in this position. By and large, the entire world seems mostly willing to overlook the absolutely disgusting actions of Jim Morrison, John Lennon, Led Zeppelin, Dr. Dre and so many others. Sure, social media didn’t exist back then, but it does now. Most people are aware of what happened, but, presumably due to their musical legacies and perhaps because their atrocities were committed all those years ago, they’re willing to turn a blind eye. Does that make them terrible people?
In today’s modern world, there are ways to appreciate art without lining the pockets of the artist… but does that truly make a difference? Is it actually possible to separate the two out at all? Art is, after all, an extension of the artist. A reflection of who they are and how they see the world. And if that’s the case, how ethical is supporting it in any way?
If you need to talk to someone after reading this article, or you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, please call 1800 RESPECT or contact Reach Out Australia.
Image: The Rumjacks Facebook
Yep, you read that right: for the first time since 1993, Guns N’ Roses – featuring Slash, Duff McKagan, and Axl Rose – are coming to Australia. They’re bringing their Not In This Lifetime tour down under in February 2017. Don’t even pretend that the opening riff to Sweet Child O’ Mine isn’t playing in your head right now.
A couple of days ago, a billboard above Melbourne’s iconic Young & Jackson hotel seemed to confirm the news, but now it’s official. The aforementioned trio will hit stadiums around the country, presumably along with fellow band members Frank Ferrer, Dizzy Reed, and Richard Fortus, and potentially even original drummer Steven Adler, who recently made an appearance with GnR.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rbm6GXllBiw
As we’ve all come to accept, “national tour” often means Sydney, Melbourne, and sometimes Brisbane – not so this time. Guns N’ Roses are gearing up to deliver their live show to Adelaide and Perth as well; however, it’s no secret that Axl Rose has a, uh, colourful history when it comes to live performances. Namely that he’s got a reputation for being notoriously late. Who knows if he’ll make good on the set times this time around? That being said, if you do go to a Guns N’ Roses show and you’re not prepared to potentially wait around a bit, that might be on your head. Hopefully the strict stadium curfews that are in place will keep Rose in check. It should be noted he’s nudged his way into many punters’ good graces by his unexpectedly well-executed turn as the unofficial frontman for AC/DC.
No word on support acts yet, although Wolfmother and Skrillex (er?) have both recently opened for the guys. Tickets go on sale to the general public on August 26th, and there’s also a Telstra customer pre-sale starting on the 23rd.
GUNS N’ ROSES NOT IN THIS LIFETIME AUSTRALIAN TOUR
Tues 7 February 2017 | QSAC Stadium, Brisbane
Tickets via Ticketek
Fri 10February 2017 | ANZ Stadium, Sydney
Tickets via Ticketek
Tues 14 February 2017 | MCG, Melbourne
Tickets via Ticketek
Sat 18 February 2017 | Adelaide Oval, Adelaide
Tickets via Ticketek
Tues 21 February 2017 | Perth Domain Stadium, Perth
Tickets via Ticketmaster
Will Butler of Arcade Fire fame can time travel. Are any of us surprised? In the film clip for Friday Night, the titular track from his live album recorded at Chicago’s Lincoln Hall, what begins as a simple breakfast with his real-life wife Jenny Shore and son Alvin becomes a screwball flash-forward to Alvin’s presumably inevitable “angsty teen” phase. Comedian Zack Willis is perfectly cast as Teen Alvin – he SERIOUSLY looks related to Butler – and he leaves the family home in a huff to throw a petty, cross-neighbourhood tantrum. It’s a great visual accompaniment to the track, which kinda reads as a scattered, desperate, adult version of spitting the dummy but retains its good humour through a tottering piano.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rOoXr1qp9s4
The clip itself is, unsurprisingly, directed by another comedian: Jo Firestone. She sounds like she basically had the time of her life making it:
“I’m a big fan of Will. His album is incredible. He’s so talented, and on top of that he’s nice – and he’s so talented that he really doesn’t have to be nice at all. I’m certainly not worthy to make music videos for him, but we tried our best.”
Of COURSE he’s super nice to boot. Of course. And if this clip is anything to go by, Will Butler definitely doesn’t take himself too seriously either. As much as I want to be angry about some people winning the personality/talent lottery, I can’t be. You win, Butler. And Firestone’s selling herself short – the clip is irresistibly quirky and charming, and will improve the hell out of your Wednesday.
Friday Night the album was released in June, but will be released again on vinyl on September 9 via Merge. It features five songs from Butler’s debut LP Policy, as well as five new songs (one of which is the title track).
Read more: Will Butler does a bizarre review of Grimes’ new album ‘Art Angels’
Image: Jo Firestone